Yesterday's Tomorrow
by Punk.is.Awesome
Summary: The downfall of the Dark Lord also meant an end of life as it was known; a new era was born, with new lives, new stories, new secrets and new struggles.
1. Draco

_**Draco;  
There is no easy way from the earth to the stars**_

_'In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future'_

There was a crash, followed by a few muffled sobs.

Danielle burst through the door of Draco's study, only to find the man she loved with all her heart, the man she would put before anything sitting curled up on the emerald green, leather sofa.

'Draco?' she said softly, approaching his slowly.

'They're dead,' he said simply, letting his statement hang in the air between them.

On the other side of the room, a silver frame caught Danielle's eye. It had obviously hit the wall, thus causing the glass to break. She picked it up carefully, trying to avoid cutting herself on the glass. The broken glass made it hard to see the photo inside the frame, but it was obviously a photo to two people.

'Shit,' she said quietly as a small fragment of glass sliced open her finger as she tried to get the photo out. Ignoring the diminutive pain, she slid the photo out.

Two people were laughing in it; a man who looked almost like Draco, only taller and older looking, and beside him a woman with the same features of Draco. The woman was cradling a baby, while the man started at his son with a look of glee on his face. Narcissa, Lucius and a baby Draco.

'Dead . . .' Draco repeated to no one but himself.

'Are – Are you sure?' Danielle asked, taking a seat beside Draco.

Draco nodded slowly. The words seemed to be stuck in his voice, but eventually he managed to choke, 'Severus told me; came by floo a few minutes ago. He left pretty quickly . . .'

'But . . . How?'

It seemed unreal to Danielle. Impossible. She felt as if she were dreaming, but the pain she felt for the person sitting beside her, who had lost almost everything he had ever knew in a moment let her know it was reality. She hated seeing his like this; his usual calm and composed self was thrown way, replaced with an unbalanced and disorientated man who was a stranger to her.

'Death eaters; the last of them,' he whispered. 'Bellatrix included. Her own sister!'

Everything seemed to crash around his as he stood up, grabbing a small vase from a nearby table with a force that threw that table onto it's side with a crash of splintering wood.

'HER _SISTER!_' he yelled, hurling the vase towards the fireplace. As it made contact with the wall beside the fireplace it shattered into thousand of pieces, sending microscopic shards across the room, none big enough to see. He stood in the same place for a few minutes, stationary, breathing heavily as he collected his thoughts, scattered like the vase, and he tried to think clearly. He knew that it was important to stay collected, if only for Danielle's benefit; he didn't want to scare her away with his outburst, but it was so hard to control himself after the recent news. Anger bubbles inside, mixed with a want for revenge, and it took every ounce of strength to stop himself from going on the hunt for those who committed the acts at that instance. He knew it wouldn't change what happened, but it might make him feel better.

Danielle was unsure of what to say. What could she say? Sorry you're parents are dead, and that you're aunt helped kill them? She was pretty sure that that wouldn't go down too well with him, so decided it best remained silent and avoid any unintentional provoking.

'I'm sorry . . .' she whispered, staring at him with concern in her eyes.

'They were all I had,' he said, his voice now calmer, yet not betraying his emotions.

'You have me,' Danielle said, the hurt clearly showing in her voice. His last comment had inflicted more damage to her than any physical damage ever could.

'It's not that same,' Draco continued, either obvious to the pain he had caused, or just not caring about it. 'They were my _parents_, it's different with parents that love interests; you know what I mean.'

'No Draco, I don't know what you mean!' she fired back, coming out of her trace of caring about his feelings. She no longer cared if she hurt his feelings; he'd hurt hers for the last time. 'In case you didn't notice, Draco, my parents were killed in the war fighting for the side I was fighting against. They would have killed me if they had to. I _watched_ them as the curse hit them, as they fell to the ground for the last time, never to wake up, and I didn't help them. I as good as killed my own parents, Draco. But why should you care? It had nothing to do with your perfect life.'

Draco couldn't help but hide the shock on his face; he'd never taken the time to find out the small, and large details about her that made her who she is. Never took a little time out of his day just to get to know her a little better that he already did, which wasn't very much. Never cared about her.

'I – I didn't know,' he stuttered, not looking her in the eye, but concentrating on the canvas of the empty portrait on the wall behind her.

'No, you didn't,' she said quietly, and calmly despite her recent outburst. 'But that doesn't matter now. Are _you_ okay?'

'Danielle, I'm sorry. I should have spent more time with you just getting to know you. I was selfish.'

'I know, Draco. People told me I was a fool for agreeing to go out with you, and thought I was crazy for agreeing to marry you. But, I told them that there was a method in my madness; I _knew_ that there was a great man – a hero – underneath all the walls and barriers you've put up over the years, and that they just needed to be pulled down. But I can't do it without your help, Draco.'

'I'll help.'

There was a funeral, and then a wedding to plan. Draco had a hard time coping with all the excess emotions, but thanks to Danielle, his new rock, he was able to avoid having a breakdown.

There were two weeks until the wedding.

Everything was hectic, with hardly a minute to sit down a rest. A new set of dress robes had to be bought, the dress had to be fitted, invitations posted, flowers arrangements sorted and so much more that kept them busy right up to the day before the wedding.

There was one day until the wedding.

Danielle and Draco had finally found the time to sit down, and were enjoying their free time together, snuggled up on the emerald green sofa in the silver and green living room, doing nothing but talking.

They were truly happy.

'How many walls left to break down?' Draco asked, staring into his soon-to-be wife's immense blue eyes; Ravenclaw blue, which suited her Ravenclaw self.

'Just one more,' she replied with a smirk. A smirk that made him proud of her. 'Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'Why'd you pick me instead of some Slytherin? Why a Ravenclaw?'

'Because you're you. Why would I want some stupid Slytherin when I could have the beautiful, thoughtful, perfect Ravenclaw whom I'm going to marry tomorrow?'

'Any who might that be?' she teased, burrowing herself closer to him as she spoke.

'Just this girl I met at school,' he replied with a genuine smile on his face that carried to his flawless, silver eyes for the first time in a long time.

'Do you, Draco Malfoy, take Danielle Cavey to be you're wife?'

'I do.'

'Do you, Danielle Cavey, take Draco Malfoy to be you're husband?'

'I do.'

'I declare you bonded for life.'

A shower of green and silver stars fell over the two, wrapping around them to form a bond that would never be broken.

* * *

_So, waht do you think? Review and you get a virtual pie. Oh, how I love virtual blackmail. Your choice, though; rhubarb or sour apple [must be specified in the review, otherwise it is subject to availability] Did you catch my attempt at humor? If you did, have a cookie. *cookie* Anyway, the next chapter is on George. Sound fun? Maybe, maybe not._

_**Preview:  
**'The room looked cold and empty; the memories in the room dusty. There was something missing.' _


	2. George

_**George;  
Moving on is harder than forgetting**_

_'__What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others'_

George sat alone in his old bedroom in the Burrow. He let the silence of the empty house swallow him and became emerged in those thoughts and feelings he had shoved to the back of him mind such a long time ago, not wanting to forget about them but just wanting to be free from them for a while.

It was the first time in just over five years that he had entered his old bedroom. The first few steps through the threshold were the hardest as the memories of happier times came flooding back to him.

He wanted to move on, but there seemed to be some sort of invisible barrier that held him back. The room looked cold and empty; the memories in the room dusty. There was something missing. That's why he made this visit to his childhood home, in search of that something.

'George?'

The song-like voice rang up the stairs and through the open door. He had thought that everyone was out, which was the reason he had picked this day to come, though it was now obvious he was mistaken.

'Is that you?'

It called again, this time with a slight edge, as it seemed that the speaker was starting to doubt their assumption, and it broke the silence that had been a comfort to him. He couldn't face answering back, breaking the magic that was enclosed in the four walls.

The sound of someone climbing the stairs could be heard, echoing throughout the almost empty house. After every few steps, a creek could be heard, something that he had grown used to in his years of living there; a sound that was now almost comforting.

Finally, after a time that felt twice as long as it was, the creaking of the stairs seized and was replaced with the muffled footsteps that crossed the carpeted landing.

'George?' a soft voice called, and was followed by a head appearing in the room.

'Alicia?' George asked, staring at his old quidditch teammate.

She just smiled at him in reply and entered the room slowly. It appeared that she was trying not to hit anything, afraid to alter something even slightly in case it ruined the memories preserved in the room.

'How are you?' she asked softly, knowing that she sounded stupid but not caring. Carefully, she sat down on an old, worn chair beside the bed George was sitting on, not bothering to wipe off the layer of dust that was on top of it, but just sitting on top of it.

'Fine,' George replied simply.

'You're lying,' she stated. 'You're broken inside, afraid to move on because you're afraid of doing something to upset his memory. It's not fair, on you, George. You need to live your life, instead of wallowing in old memories.'

'But, I don't want to forget him,' the redhead said quietly, avoiding looking her in the eye.

'It doesn't mean forgetting him,' Alicia told him, moving to sit beside him on the bed where she put a comforting arm around his shoulder. '_No one_ could forget him. Fred is an unforgettable person. You have to let his memory live on in how you live. Learn to live your life without forgetting him, but without letting old memories hold you back.'

Slowly, Fred nodded. He could feel tear well up inside him as the memories came flooding back into his mind; the memories that had been so carefully hidden in the back of his mind for far too long.

_'Go on! It'll be fun!'_

_ They were up to no good once again, creating trouble as they usually did._

_ 'Okay!' George agreed, looking around his nervously before creeping down the dungeon hallway. Under his arm, he carried a large basket full of hair care products for Snape, something he would kill them for if he found out if was them, but that wasn't part of their plan._

_ Slowly, he approached the door and finally reached his detonation. George sat the basket down in front of the door and was about to leave when, thanks to a simple flick of a wand, complements of Fred, the door flew open._

_ The sight that George saw was not one he wanted to make a habit he wanted to make. In front of him was Snape's chambers, and a very angry Snape who appeared to have just stopped playing a game of wizard's chess with himself, while in the middle of it._

_ George turned around to laugh with Fred at the sight, but found he was looking at an empty hall._

_ 'He set me up!' George exclaimed._

_ 'Detention, Mr Weasley!' Snape said coldly, not getting up from his seat but merely closing the door with a flick on his wand._

'You miss him, don't you?' Alicia asked innocently.

'Yeah, I do.'

'We all do. You're not alone, George. We're all here for you.'

'Alicia?'

'Yeah?'

'Fred told me just after we left Hogwarts that I shouldn't leave things for life to sort out, but should go out there and grab what I wanted before it was beyond my reach.'

'That's incredibly sweet coming from Fred,' Alicia laughed, ignoring the seriousness of what she had been told, though not intentionally.

'Alicia . . . _You're_ that thing – person – I was waiting on life sorting out . . .' George said, sounding rather embarrassed at her reaction.

'Oh . . .' she whispered.

_**xxx**_

The faint scent of roses flowed through the air from the scented candles as George carefully lit them, before placing them on either end of the mantelpiece. The lights were dimmed and the soft chords of a gentle lullaby drifted through the otherwise silent apartment.

For the _n_th time that evening, George found himself standing in front of the large mirror that mind over the roaring fire in it's ornate frame. He surveyed his reflection in an attempt to spot any non-existent flaws he could find to fix. Not one of his flaming red hairs was out of place on his head, and his black shoes were polished to perfection; a condition, which I'm sure they haven't been in since the day they had been purchased. His suit was plain – black and white; the traditional colours, but it looked magnificent on him, making him look mysterious and quite refined and classy.

A faint knock on the door let him know that his company had arrived, and he quickly swept over to open the door.

'Alicia,' he greeted, almost pulling the girl inside in his excitement.

'George,' she replied with a smile, puling him into a hug.

'Glad you could make it.'

'Glad I could come.' She held out a bottle of red wine as if it were a peace offering and not a gift to the host, and with a smile George accepted his gift, setting it down on a small table already laid with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine.

'Red or white wine?' he asked, gesturing towards the two bottles, which sat side by side.

'A glass of red wine would be lovely, please,' Alicia replied, taking the glass from him as he poured it, before moving on to pour his own.

'Care to sit down?' he asked with a low bow towards the sofa in the middle of the room, which showed mock chivalry. He led the way, taking extra care not to trip over his own feet and ruin the mood he was trying to set.

'I've missed your company,' he told her. If he blushed, it went unnoticed in the dim lights; one of the reason's he'd chosen that particular lighting.

'So have I. It's been quiet without you around, but it's been boring as well without the chance of something blowing up every five minutes. Really takes the thrill out of everyday life.'

'I have that general effect on life,' George said cockily, but then his tone sobered up as he spoke again. 'Alicia, you know that I love you, don't you?'

'Yeah, George, I do. And I love you as well.'

'Marry me?' He pulled a small box from the inside pocket of his jacket, and slipped the ring that was inside it on her finger as she nodded, not knowing whether or not she would be able to form a sentence if she tried to speak.

'I love you . . .'

* * *

_Annnd that's all folks. Next up; Luna, even if it is kind of short xD owell. er, this chapter's for Lisa, the thorn in my side that keeps telling me to write. ta! *hands flower*_

_review much? *hint hint*  
_


	3. Luna

_**Luna;  
Sometimes, it's all you can do to accept that all you are meant to be is friends**_

_'Things do not change, we change'_

'Happy Potter Day,' called people in the crowd in the streets below her. She watched from the podium, along with a few important ministry employees. There was a bitterness in her voice that had never been there, yet no one either noticed this change or no one cared about her enough to look into it.

'Happy Potter Day!' Kingsley shouted, gaining the attention of the crowds. 'As minister of Magic, I am happy to introduce our guest, veteran of the second war, Miss Luna Lovegood!'

Slowly, Luna stepped forward to address those below her. 'Hi,' she began, fear that she didn't own coming though in her voice. 'I'm Luna Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler and a friend of Harry Potter.' She found a glass of what looked like pumpkin juice (though she doubted it was) being handed to her and took it, realising it meant she was to make a toast. 'And, I'd just like to say . . .'

She looked around her for inspiration, surveying the vast multitude of people in front of her, looking for a friendly face that would give her courage to finish. She saw one.

'I'd just like to say,' she repeated, looking back at the happy, familiar face. '. . . It should have been me!'

Without thinking, Luna threw the glass to the ground, watching it smash into thousands of pieces as the liquid inside it splashed people near, but must of it landing on her new set of robes. She didn't care that her clothes had been ruined, nor that she had just made a fool of herself in front of both people she knew and strangers.

Ignoring the shocked faces of both the crowd and those standing on the stage with her she quickly strode down the small set of steps that brought her to the back of the stage. It was quite, and that's all that she needed; time to collect her thoughts.

What she had just done was most un-Luna-like, but that didn't even bother her.

Anxiety overwhelmed her as she sunk to the ground and pulled her knees into her chest. She tried to hold back the tears that had wanted to be shed for so long in vain. It was a moment of weakness; tears rolling down her face, smudging the little makeup she wore. She let out a hiccough, burying her face into her knees. The girl let out a few muffled sobs, trying to keep the sound she made to a minimum so as not to attract any unwanted attention. Though, what were the chances of someone coming looking for her? She was always just one of the girls watching from the sidelines, rarely in the centre of it all and rarely praised for her achievements. The Boy Who Wouldn't Die's weird friend.

'If only you could see me now, dad,' she whispered to no one in particular, not bothering to look up as she did so. 'See the person I've become . . .'

She could feel someone put a comforting arm around her shoulders, but didn't bother to check who it was. Instead, she relaxed a little, the tear stream drying up a little, though it still continued. Her hiccoughs became less frequent, and her sobs died down until both completely stopped.

'Luna, it's okay,' the soft voice of Ginny said in an attempt to help her friend calm down. Slowly, but surely, her friend raised her head to reveal a very distressed girl, who looked nothing like the carefree, bizarre girl she had grown to love. The events had had their price on Luna, and she's ended up changed, though not for the better. She was a different girl; a mere shell of the girl she had been just years ago.

Luna's once long, dirty fair hair had been cut up to her jaw line, her clear blue eyes were bloodshot from crying and her appearance was now what most would call normal. It seemed that all of her Luna-like qualities had been sucked out of her.

'What happened?' Ginny whispered, not wanting to sound rube but unsure if she achieved her wish.

Luna's mouth opened, but closed quickly without any sound escaping. Instead, she reached into her pocket and extracted a piece of paper, nearly folded only in the middle and handed it to her friend.

'Miss Luna Lovegood,

You are invited to the wedding of Neville Longbottom and Kali Baines on March 21st.'

The rest of the invitation was smudged with tears, save one handwritten signature that read "Neville Longbottom". It was not marked in any other way, almost as if it had been preserved.

'I lost him . . .' Luna whispered into the silence. Tears welled up behind her eyes again at the thought, but she quickly blinked them away not wanting to show any more weakness that she already had.

'You – you loved him, didn't you,' Ginny said, not a question but a statement that she knew the answer to. Nonetheless, Luna answered with a nod.

'They're happily married now, and _she's_ expecting a baby,' Luna said, saying the word 'she' with a bitterness that sounded foreign in her voice. 'It's my fault; I should have said something before it was too late.'

'I'm so sorry, Luna . . .' Ginny whispered.

'But life goes on,' Luna said, inhaling deeply to relax herself, before letting the breath out slowly. She continued taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly for a few minutes in silence, trying to compose herself again before facing the real world.

'Let's go!' Luna announced suddenly, standing up.

'Where?' Ginny asked, following her friend's lead and standing too.

'The Leaky Cauldron? I feel like a drink,' Luna posed.

The redhead agreed, and the two walked out into the now less-crowded street. They made their way towards the bar together, making pointless small talk as they did solely to fill the silence.

'Two firewhiskeys,' Luna ordered. She quickly paid for the drinks and took them to the table Ginny was sitting at, setting one in front of her friend and taking the free seat.

'Feeling better?' Ginny asked, unsure if it was a good or bad thing that her friend was drinking with her.

'Yes,' Luna replied, sounding a little bit like her dreamy self, which was a good start.

**_3_**

'Mummy?'

The little blonde girl tugged at the sleeve of her mother's silk blouse, her pigtails bobbing up and down in the effort.

'Mummy, why are you crying? . . Is daddy alright?'

Luna couldn't help but let a small sob escape, as she pulled her daughter towards her into a large hug, resting her chin on her head. A few teardrops rolled off her chin, landing on the golden blonde hair below her, disappearing instantly. Nonetheless, Luna proceeded to brushing it off, before leading the small girl towards a series of blue plastic chairs; blue, the colour of sorrow.

'Cara . . .' she began slowly as her daughter sat down and she kneeled in front of her, taking her small hands in her and giving them a small squeeze. 'Daddy won't be coming home. . He's with the angels now. .'

It almost broke her heart to see her daughters eyes well up in tears, as her had no long beforehand, but she had to be strong now, from the girl in front on her who's world had been torn apart at the mere age of seven. For the second time in minutes, she pulled her forward into a hug, offering a shoulder to cry on and reassuring word of comfort that were whispering in the small blondes ear.

'Did he leave because he doesn't love me?' she asked quietly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her jacket.

'No, daddy loves you more than the sun and the moon, and he still does. He's looking down on you now, watching over you, making sure nothing bad will happen to you.'

'But why can't he do all that and still be alive?'

Luna felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest when the words reached her ears. _How do you explain something to a child that you, yourself, don't understand?_

'Because. . Because daddy has a special job now. He's an angel. .'

_**xxx**_

'Thanks for coming. .'

As the last of the guests left Luna closed the door quietly so as not to wake Cara and walked slowly towards the living room. She noticed the mess around her, making a mental note to clean up later; organising and hosting a funeral had taken a lot of energy out of her, and right now all she felt like doing was lying down and sleeping. Sitting on the sofa, she turned the radio on purely for some background noise in the otherwise silent house.

'I can't believe he's gone. .' she whispered to no one in particular before drifting slowly into a light sleep.

With a start she woke up, feeling as if she had only been sleeping for minutes, but the clock above the hearth chimed two in the morning as she picked herself up and made her way to bed. Taking care not to trip on the toys Cara usually left on the landing, Luna noticed that they weren't there. Looking around again she saw that there was nothing out of place; everything was shiny and clean.

'Must be my imagination' she muttered, walking on towards her bedroom, but on opening the door she found herself facing a chest that seemed to be dressed in a slightly rumpled suit.

'Luna. . You weren't supposed to see me,' a deep voice said.

'Neville?' she said quietly, looking up to see her old friend run a nervous hand through his hair. 'You look smart. .'

'Thanks.'

'. . Did you clean up? Wait, that sounds stupid, sorry, just my mind playing tricks on me. I need some sleep. I think. .'

'No. It was me. You looked tired, I wanted to help you out.'

'Thanks. Shouldn't you go home to your wife?'

'. .Didn't you hear?'

'Hear what?'

'Oh. . Well this is awkward. . Well Kali was in a motorcycle accident a few years ago. . Her and Alice. .'

Luna froze. Slowly, she looked up to meet her friends eyes, seeing them fill with tears which were blinked away quickly.

'You really loved her. .'

'I did. . But Luna, I don't know how to say this. . The thing is. . I've always loved you, too. .'

'I. .I'm sorry, Neville. .'

'Why are you sorry?' His voice was soft as he looked at the blonde with concern as she let a few silent sob escape, wiping her tears away with the hem of her purple cardigan.

'I'm sorry because I loved you, too. . But you're too late. .'

* * *

_I realised there's no disclaimed. Here it is, for liek the whole thing: **Don't own whats not mine.**  
_

_Now for the fun stuff;_

_LolPotterDay._

_Everyone say aww? Because everyone doesn't have a happy ending. Again, for my darlinig Lisa; Paris was amazing, thanks for asking [:_

_Well, review if ye liked it? and if you didnt like it? review if you like cheese or pasta?  
_

_arrivederci [:  
_


	4. Neville

**Neville; Thought is the sculptor who can create the person you want to be**

_Love life and life will love you back. Love people and they will love you back._

In theory, the amount of pacing he had done in the past hour should have wore a hole in the sterile ground beneath his feet, but I guess that that is magic for you. Sitting down for what felt like the first time in years, he ran a hand thought his chocolate brown hair.

_Time to get it cut,_ he thought. _She always said I suited it short. ._

'Mr Longbottom?'

He looked up to see that the voice belonged to a kind looking nurse and couldn't help but notice the hint of a smile pulling the edges of her lips us. Standing up slowly he followed her down the winding corridors before finally stopping in front of a pale yellow door; a neutral colour. She held the door open for him, and as he entered cautiously, he thanked her.

'It's a girl!'

Neville stared at his glowing wife who, in her arms, held a tiny bundle of yellow blankets and he couldn't help but smile in pride as he stared at the child he had help create.

'Would you like to hold her, Neville?'

Sitting on the edge of the bed beside his wife, the tall man took the child from her arms, forming a cradle with his own arms as she had done seconds beforehand, and gentle began to rock, staring transfixed at how small she was.

'I was thinking of calling her Alice. .' Her voice was quiet and she spoke slowly, anticipating the same reaction that he had given each time the name had been mentioned.

'Kali, do we have to have this conversation now?' he said, his brow furrowing as he was careful not the raise his voice and awaken his daughter, thought mainly because he had no idea what he should do if she did wake up.

'Yes, we do, I'm afraid. You've put it off long and now that she's here she needs a name. Please, Neville. .'

He watched his daughter chest rise and fall, softly and rhythmically, moving in time with her quiet breathing, before moving his eyes to her face. 'Alice. .' he whispered, and as the words left his lips, her tiny eyes cracked open, producing two pairs of bright blue eyes staring back at his. 'You like the name Alice?' She blinked, as if in reply, and he couldn't help but let a smile paint across his face. 'You and your mother are always going to gang up on me, aren't you?'

'Of course we are,' Kali replied with a smirk as she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. 'She'll live up to the name, don't worry.'

'I know. .'

**X**

Tears came to Neville's eyes as he stood at the back of the church, examining the pews in front, the ends of each laden with flowers; white roses, to be precise, tied neatly with light, powder blue ribbons. The small sea of guests filled the small church, and just by examining the backs of their head, he was able to decipher whom each person was, but he couldn't find the one person he wanted to see.

Slowly, he began the walk up the aisle, looking sideways to see his daughter, now twenty-three years of age; a vision of perfection in white, her light brown hair calling in perfect ringlets with a tiara adorned with the same roses that decorated the church. In short; she looked beautiful.

Then he blinked and she was gone, replaced with a heavy weight on his shoulder. They began the slow march up the aisle, one coffin after the other; his daughter and his wife. How he got through the ceremony without breaking down; no one knows, but all too soon he found himself standing in front of a double grave, already filled in, a large marble gravestone in front of him that was still blank. The sun glinted off its shiny, black surface, and a warm breeze blew, forcing him to take off the jacket of his suit.

'I love you; both of you,' he whispered, finally letting the tears fall as he took a seat at the edge of the grave and let his face fall into his hands.

* * *

_It killed me a little to write that.. I don't like seeing Neville so sad, but, I don't know.. It fitted.. So.. review if you wish [:_

_  
**PREVIEW:  
'**She felt two strong arms enfold her into a large, comforting hug and she let her guard down. Salty tears began to cascade down her cheeks'_


	5. Hermione

**Hermione; Our lives are like a candle in the wind**

_Life is a succession of moments. To live each one is to succeed_

Warm, salty tears rolled freely down her checks like a waterfall. She didn't bother wiping them away, knowing that more would just fall in their place. They mixed with the rain that fell, soaking everything around it. It seemed that the weather was corresponding to the generally mood of the day; bleak, rainy and generally depressing.

Her hair stuck to the side of her face, the rainwater dripping off the tips onto the ground, and her clothes clung tightly to her body, though it didn't seem to show too much of her figure considering the layers she was wearing. But none of it bothered her. She just ignored it as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

It had hard to believe that only a few days ago she had been getting ready to fight, her best friends by her side. Now, she watched as one of her best friends, and the person she loved more that life itself was lowered into the ground, along with many other peers, friends and people she considered family.

'Swings and roundabouts,' she whispered, feeling the warm arm of her other best friend around her neck as he pulled her closer to her in an act that told her that there were still people that cared about her.

Stifled sobs were released every so often from the small group of people that had gathered to mark the occasion, and I only use occasion for lack of a better word, for occasion gives the impression that it is a happy time, and it is anything but.

How long they stood there? Who knows?

But eventually, one by one the group grew smaller, until there were just over half a dozen people left standing, some staring into nothingness, others grieving and others attempting to comfort those grieving.

'Shall we go back to the Burrow?' Mr Weasley asked the group, staring at the graves in which of two of his sons now resided.

A murmur of agreement spread thought the group and one by one the apparated, appearing in front of the house that was familiar to them all.

When everyone was inside and had changed into something dry, they gathered in the small living room to warm up by the fire. Mr Weasley sat in his usual armchair beside the fire; while Percy sat in the other, Penelope at his feet as he absentmindedly stroked her hair. On the sofa, George, Harry and Bill sat, all looking solemn and on the floor Hermione and Ginny sat, keeping Teddy occupied.

Mrs Weasley bustled into the room, sinking into an armchair by the window; the same armchair she had sat many times before as she waited for her children and her husband to come home. But now two of them would never walk past the window after a late night. The thought brought a tear to her eyes because, even after the funerals, it still seemed so unreal, as if any moment they would come walking thought the door laughing. But everyone knew that they wouldn't.

Her husband took the deaths no better. Mr Weasley had been a lot quieter that usual since the news that was so horrifying to him, but he wouldn't sit by and idly watch it tear his family apart. The only thing that helped him cope was the simple knowledge that his sons had went in knowing what the risk was, and had fought for what they believed in, helping to shape the world into the world it ought to be.

George seemed to be the worst effected out of them, having lost his twin. It was like he had lost half of himself; the bubbly, lively self that was constantly cracking jokes to lighten any mood. It was obvious he missed Fred, but he made it seem like he wanted to forget about him and start a new life where he was just George, not Fred and George. _Just_ George.

Bill was still coming to grips with the loss of his wife, Fleur. They hadn't been married long; less that a year. She had insisted on staying, ignoring all of Bill's pleads for her to stay with Ginny and Mrs Weasley, but of course they had both left after a while. His heart broke when he saw the woman he loved lying next to his two brothers, eyes closed as if and looking as if she was peacefully asleep. He never got the chance to avenge her death, though he wished he had.

Newly forgiven Percy was blaming himself for Fred's death, the memory of his brothers lifeless body lying behind him after the impact burned into his mind, haunting his dreams and his reality. The only source of comfort he had found was his upcoming wedding with Penelope, who was lucky to be alive, but even then it was depressing to think that two of his brothers wouldn't be there for the special occasion.

Harry now suffered from immense guilt, personally blaming himself for all those lost and injured. It didn't help matters that many others blamed him as well. The Boy Who Lived, or The Boy Who Couldn't Die? The Boy Who Sacrificed Others To Win, they called him spitefully, forgetting all the good things and focusing on the bad.

Ginny, the youngest of the Weasleys and the only girl in a long time. Too long. Losing two brothers in the same day had been hard on her, having spent longer with Ron than the others. It seemed to her that everyone expected her to break down, being the youngest and a girl, but she wouldn't. She told herself that she would be strong, if not for herself and not for everyone around her then for the memory of her brothers. She needed to be a rock for her family now, and that's what she would do.

And then there was Hermione, who had taken in Teddy for the past few days, treating him like the son she felt she was too young to have. Yes, Harry was his Godfather, but it was obvious that he was in no state to look after himself, let alone a baby. Deep down she secretly knew that she was looking after Teddy to keep herself occupied to put off facing the real world, something she never wanted to do. In a split second her life had been destroyed as she watched her best friends and the man she loved fall to the ground, catching that deadly light that should have been hers. A little bit of her died along with Ron; the part of her heart that he owned.

** [X]**

Life was almost like clockwork in the day that followed, for all the inhabitants. The same pattern was followed day after day; wake up, eat and sleep again, with nothing too exhilarating in between it all. Zombies, you might call them, but they were definitely alive if the unique pain each was feeling in their heart was anything to judge by.

'Good morning,' Andromeda greeted, disturbing the usual routine as she entered the Burrow.

'Mornin',' came a series of mumbled replied from those people sitting around the table, subconsciously eating the bowls of cereal sat in front of them.

'How are you, Molly?' she asked, turning to the woman busying herself, cleaning the bench.

'Oh, fine. Fine,' Molly replied. 'How are _you_?'

'I'm good, thank you,' Andromeda replied politely. 'How's Teddy?'

'Why don't you ask our little mother?' Molly said with a small laugh, nodding in the direction of Hermione, who was currently battling with Teddy to get him to eat his breakfast, and seemed to be winning as the bowl was nearly empty.

'How is he?' Andromeda asked the girl, dropping into the free seat beside Teddy's highchair.

'He's a fighter, like his parents,' Hermione replied, somehow getting him to eat the last spoonful before ruffling his hair, a fiery red that would challenge any Weasley.

'You're a born mother,' Andromeda commented, noticing how well the girl got along with the boy. 'Thinking about starting up your own family some day?'

'I was . . .' Hermione said softly.

'It takes something terrible to make us realise how short life can be!' Harry said rather thoughtlessly, butting into their conversation. It was obvious that he was half awake, as he wasn't quite thinking about what he said before he said it.

'You have no idea,' the girl stated before quickly leaving the room, heading up the stairs, and leaving a very confused Andromeda with a very lively baby.

'Hermione?' she heard Bill call from the other side of the door.

The door was locked, but he could easily open it. They both knew that. It was because of this simple fact that she wasn't surprised to hear the door unlock and open, revealing a rather worried Bill Weasley standing beyond the threshold. Slowly, he entered, closing the door of Ginny's bedroom behind him as he did.

He noticed that her eyes were slightly bloodshot, from crying he presumed, but she would never admit to it. She was the rock of the Golden Trio; the one who held them together throughout the hard times. Showing fear was out of the question for someone who had to be so collected and balanced so as to hold a friendship together; a friendship that the lives of many depended on. A friendship that was withered with a simple jet of light.

'Are you okay?' Bill asked, taking a seat on Ginny bed so that he faced her.

She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to answer for fear of showing the weakness that she tried so hard to cover.

'Are you-' he began, but stopped as something, glistening in the sun, caught his eye. 'Hermione . . . is that?' He pointed slowly as her hand, where a ring comprised of a silver band and two small diamonds with a slightly larger one in the middle sat.

The girl looked down to see what he was pointing at and immediately her eyes began to water as she nodded again, understanding what his unfinished question meant.

'Shit. .' Bill whispered, not taking his eyes off the ring. He knew who gave her it; it didn't take a brain scientist to work it out. Unsure of what to say, he settled on saying nothing, knowing that it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge in her current state.

'He asked me before the battle,' she whispered. It was almost inaudible, but he caught every syllable. 'But then. . .' Her voice trailed off as she turned away, staring out of the window to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

She felt two strong arms enfold her into a large, comforting hug and she let her guard down. Salty tears began to cascade down her cheeks, dropping off her cheeks in sequence onto the patched quilt cover. She could feels Bill's warmth as he held her – protecting her. It was reassuring to have someone comfort her again, something she had taken for granted in the past. She let out a few quiet sobs, which slowly began quieter until they turned into hiccoughs. But eventually, in Bill's arms, she fell into an unease sleep, but, for the first night since the Final Battle, she managed to fall in a sleep that wasn't plagued with shattered images playing over and over like a scratched CD. She found it comforting to be inside two, strong arms once again. It felt safe; as if nothing could hurt her where she sat. As if she was no longer being left behind on her own, while everyone else moved on with their lives . . .

**[X]**

_There was death in the air; everyone could sense it. Coloured lights were flashing across the vast grounds of Hogwarts, blending together to form a blur of light that seemed to go in every direction imaginable. The hard earth was already scattered with the bodies of those fallen soldiers who had fought up until their dying moments; those who shall be remembered for their bravery._

_ The young couple fought side by side as if they were following a pattern of attacking their opponent and defending their selves. As the young woman raised her wand, the sun caught on the three small jewels on her ring, and she shot a curse at the woman she was fighting, a smile on her face as she risked a glance at the ring she was wearing; a ring that symbolised the life she was going to have. Her hand interlaced with the mans beside her, causing him to drag his attention away from the battle at hand to look at her._

_ Everything seemed to slow down as a jet of bright green light shot from the attackers wand as soon as his head turned. In slow motion, his body fell backwards as it absorbed the light; his face froze, no longer showing any emotion, as it had been seconds before. In shock, she let go of his hand, and he fell into the earth with a muffled thump._

_ 'Ron . . .' she chocked as the woman they had been fighting ran to help her fellow Death Eaters, laughing as she watched the young woman's reactions._

_ A single tear fell from the young woman's eyes and landed on the check of her fiancé. She slowly wiped it off with her thump as a harsh reality bombarded her thoughts._

_ He was dead._

* * *

_To make up for not updating in aggges, here;s another update. Hope you like it, I'm not so sure about it. :/  
_


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